


A Christmas Surprise

by KatieComma



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: An AU of the highest order, Blow Job, Christmas, Complete and absolute canon divergence, Derek is a grinch, First Time, Get Together, Hand Job, Idiots in Love, M/M, Smut, Stiles went to Stanford, all the jobs, cause it's me, fluff and cuteness, lots of smut, no one is dead, the Hale fire still happened though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:34:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21679084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatieComma/pseuds/KatieComma
Summary: Stiles comes home from Stanford for the holidays and shows up on the front step of the newly rebuilt Hale house.Derek was not expecting him.Stiles barges in and plans to deck Derek's halls because he's a grinch who doesn't plan to decorate.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 67
Kudos: 803





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ok... so... yeah... how did I end up writing fic for a fandom I've barely watched any of? CAUSE THESE BOYS ARE SO IN LOVE IT HURTS.
> 
> Thank you BlackVultures for beta reading for me!!!! You're amazing!!! And I can't believe you took the time out for me!!!

Stiles stood outside the door, his hand poised to knock, and hesitated.

He took a step back and looked up at the looming Hale house in the midday light. Derek’s house. Fully rebuilt and glaring down at him like a disapproving rich aunt. Not that Stiles had one of those, but he had a good imagination. Her name would be Agnes and she would have a big fat orange cat. The house had been years in the reno’ing and it was finally done. Totally finished. The last touches put on during the fall semester when Stiles had been away at Stanford. He never said anything, but it hurt him. He’d wanted to be there for the end, since he’d been helping from the beginning. But they’d finished without him. They didn’t need Stiles.

Yet here he was again, pushing himself in where he probably didn’t belong. Where he probably wasn’t wanted.

But he couldn’t resist. This was an excuse and an opportunity to spend time with Derek, and Stiles absolutely wouldn’t back down. Not to mention that his sourwolf needed to smile, needed some happiness in his life. And Stiles was determined to give it to him. Not that Derek was _Stiles’_ sourwolf. They didn’t belong to each other. Nothing had ever happened between them. Far as Stiles knew, Derek was straight as… something… very straight. Like the stick up his butt. Stiles, however, was more flexible, having experimented extensively in college.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” Derek asked from the open front door.

Stiles hadn’t even realized the door had opened and jumped about ten feet in the air. “What in the hell dude?” He yelled. “Did you really have to do that?”

“No, but it was fun,” Derek said, face stern, but a smile beginning to tug at the corner of his mouth. Stiles lived for that “almost smile.” And he loved the fact that he knew it meant Derek was happy. “What are you doing out here anyway?” Derek asked. “Why didn’t you knock or something?”

“Well, cause I know you’re a creeper and you’d be eavesdropping on my heartbeat or something and come find me,” Stiles said before looking back up at the house. “I was just… looking at the house.”

Derek walked out to stand beside Stiles. So close, his epic body heat radiating in waves, like standing too close to the sun. “Looking at what?” Derek asked. “You’ve seen it a million times.”

Stiles smiled at Derek, and nudged him with his elbow. “But it’s _done_ now.” He looked back up. “I haven’t seen it done before.”

“But it doesn’t look any different. The stuff we finished was in the basement. The outside’s been done for a long time,” Derek argued, still looking up.

“Spoilsport,” Stiles sneered. “I just… it’s done,” he repeated.”

Derek seemed to have a moment suddenly, and just looked up at the house in silence.

Stiles turned his attention to Derek. Who looked good. Really good. It had only been a few months since he’d seen him in the summer, and there wasn’t anything remarkably different. Maybe it was just the “not seeing him” for months that made it special. But Stiles looked while Derek was preoccupied. Black henley and snug jeans; perfect Derek get up. His scruff was neatly trimmed, his hair brushed back in that casual and perfect way that made it look like he just ran his hands through it in the morning and walked out looking like a Men’s Health wet dream.

“Stiles?” Derek asked without turning his attention from the house.

Stiles tried not to jump or act like he’d been caught staring. “Yup?”

“Why are we staring at my house?”

Stiles groaned and threw his head back, still playing the role of petulant teenager when it suited him, despite the fact that he was 22 now. “Why can’t you just enjoy the moment? Like, once, ever?”

“Stiles, what are you doing here?” Derek asked, crossing his arms. Standard Derek pose. In addition to not being threatening in the least, it was sexy as hell, so Stiles turned his attention to the boxes and bags he’d left out on Derek’s front porch.

“Jeeze, thought you might at least be glad to see me,” Stiles said sarcastically as he picked up the biggest box and hauled it through the open front door.

“Hey!” Derek followed. “What are you doing? You know this is _my_ house, right?”

“Wrong big guy,” Stiles said as he tromped into the living room and dropped the box in the middle of the floor. “This is the pack’s house. Sure, you live here and stuff. Whatever it is you do in this place all by your lonesome. But, it’s pack central. It’s like Stark Tower, right? Sure, Tony’s the only one who lives there, but it’s where the Avengers assemble.” With no more explanation he went back to the front porch and grabbed a few more things.

Derek didn’t help. Just stood in the living room, crossing his arms and staring.

“What is all this stuff?” He asked, when Stiles was done playing pack mule and the front door was closed.

“It’s Christmas!” Stiles said with arms wide open.

“Christmas?” Derek raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so, I may have been talking to Erica and she said you weren’t planning to decorate. At all. Which, like, uncool dude,” Stiles said. “So I’ve brought all the stuff we need to deck your halls.”

Derek frowned. “I’m not helping,” he said.

“Oh yes you are,” Stiles grinned. “This is a team effort-type thing. So let’s get moving.” He leaned down over the box with the fake tree in it and started trying to get through the insane amount of tape that was holding the thing in.

“Hey Stiles,” Derek said, his voice serious as he reached out and grabbed Stiles’ forearm. “I didn’t…”

Stiles looked up and found Derek looking right back at him; that look they’d shared back and forth over way too many years. But not so many in the scheme of a lifetime. That look that Stiles knew now meant attraction. But this was Derek. Even though Stiles knew what it meant, he didn’t want to push forward. Derek knew, he had to know. He could smell the arousal that hung on Stiles all the time, hear the quickening of his heartbeat when their eyes met, when they touched. The ball was in Derek’s court.

“Yeah?” Stiles replied, when Derek didn’t continue. They were close.

“I didn’t mean that I wasn’t happy to see you,” Derek stumbled through sincere so awkwardly Stiles almost felt sorry for him. “I am. Happy. That you’re here.”

“Good,” Stiles said. “Now help me with this stupid tape, would you?”

Derek smiled, a real one this time, not just the tug at the corners of his mouth. It looked unused, the big smile, and he wondered how often Derek brought it out when Stiles wasn’t around. Derek let his claws extend and easily cut through the tape before retracting them again.

“Domestic wolf, one. Packing tape, zero,” Stiles replied as he opened the box and the tree half sprang out.

Once the tree was roughly assembled in the corner of the living room Stiles stood back with his hands on his hips as though he’d just done a hard day’s work.

“It looks-“ Derek started.

“Awesome,” Stiles finished. “This room is going to look so cool all decorated. I can’t believe you weren’t even going to do it. A big fancy house like this is the absolute perfect place to deck out.”

“It looks like shit,” Derek finished.

“Well of course it looks like shit,” Stiles said, “first: it’s not lit or decorated yet. Second: you need to floof it first. The floofing is the most important part of a fake tree.”

“Floof?” Derek asked.

The word sounded so perfect out of his mouth that Stiles burst out laughing and slapped Derek’s shoulder. “Please say it again!” Stiles begged through subsiding laughter.

“No,” Derek grumped.

“Alright, get to it,” Stiles pointed at the tree.

Derek’s eyes got wide. “Oh no, this is all you,” he said, “I told you I’m not helping.”

“Just with the floofing,” Stiles pleaded. “And anything else you might want to help with along the way once you finally get into the Christmas spirit. Which I promise you is absolutely happening today. But the floofing is key, and I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Ok, so… I have this beautiful wonderful delicate skin,” Stiles said, rubbing at his soft forearms to emphasize. “And the thing about floofing is: it’s sorta like the tree doesn’t really want to be floofed, so it attacks. And every time I do it, I end up looking like I’ve been in a fight with an alley cat. Scratches all up and down my arms. The branches just... lash out.”

“It’s not a magical tree, Stiles,” Derek said, but his mouth was quirking toward grin again. Oh, he was getting into the Christmas spirit alright, if Stiles had anything to say about it.

“I’m telling you man, it happens to me every year. So, you need to floof.”

“So you want me to get attacked and scratched up instead?”

“Dude! Werewolf healing!” Stiles yelled and waved his arms around. “Plus, I’ll make us a drink while you floof. I picked up some eggnog and stuff. Holiday spirit and all that.”

Derek stepped up to the tree and looked at it like he was about to clean a toilet. “How exactly do I…”

Stiles smiled wide and stepped up next to Derek, probably too close, but hey Stiles was desperate for Derek to come to terms with whatever spark was between them. “Come on, you can say it.”

Derek’s eyebrows tried to hit his hairline. “I’m not going to say it.”

Stiles let his grin grow wider until it hurt his cheeks, but he didn’t respond.

Derek sighed and rolled his eyes. “How exactly do I floof a tree?”

“Yes! See! I knew you had it in you!” Stiles said, placing a hand on Derek’s shoulder for just a moment. “Well you just… kinda…” He reached out to one of the branches and spread the wire framed branches wide, pulling them apart and trying to make them look natural. “Like that - ouch! Damnit!” Stiles pulled back from the tree.

“What? Are you ok?” Derek immediately jumped into high alert, and grabbed Stiles’ wrist to assess the damage.

A bright red scratch marred the inside of Stiles’ forearm. “See! I told you!”

Derek looked at the scratch like he wanted to kiss it better, but dropped Stiles’ wrist instead. “Alright, alright. I’ll floof for you.”

“Thanks Derek, you won’t regret it.” Stiles retreated to the kitchen where he’d stowed the nog stuff, and returned with two spiked eggnogs; spiked a very small amount. Derek couldn’t get drunk, none of the wolves could, and Stiles hated being drunk around them. It felt silly to be the only one intoxicated. It also felt like throwing it in their faces; showing them something they couldn’t have.

Stiles sat down on the big sectional sofa and kicked his legs up on the chaise. He watched Derek greedily, ogling unapologetically, and wondered if there was something awful about him that he didn’t just come clean with Derek. But somehow he knew it would go badly. If Derek didn’t come to terms with it on his own, then it wasn’t going to end well. Forcing people to confront their sexuality wasn’t the way to go about it.

“How’s… things?” Derek asked awkwardly while he continued to push branches around, making the muscles in his arms and back twitch and flex in the best way under the thin cotton of his henley.

“Things are good,” Stiles replied. They talked on the phone at least once a week when Stiles was at school, and texted more often. Derek knew how things were. Except for one new development that Stiles had been keeping quiet on. He wasn’t quite sure why, but whenever he worked himself up to tell Derek about it, his gut roiled and he put it off again. “Things with Theresa didn’t work out.”

“Sorry,” Derek was quiet, and didn’t sound particularly sorry.

“Right near the beginning of the term actually,” Stiles said.

“I wondered,” Derek replied, not turning toward Stiles, intent on his floofing.

Stiles didn’t respond.

“You stopped talking about her,” Derek answered the silent question.

“Yeah, so just over a month ago… yeah… I think it was a month ago… I started going out with this guy Kevin.”

Derek stopped moving, all his muscles tight, and turned his head just a little as though he was trying to hear better; as though he thought somehow his wolf ears had failed him and he’d misheard. “Yeah?” There was danger in his voice.

“Sorry I didn’t say anything,” Stiles started to stumble over his words the way only Derek could still make him do. “I just… it wasn’t… I didn’t know if it was serious… and…”

“And it’s serious?” Derek asked, almost a bark.

“No, I just… felt weird not telling you,” Stiles finished. “It didn’t work out. He broke up with me right before break. Wants to try something different in the New Year. It’s ok. He wasn’t really… it wasn’t working before that.” He paused for only a moment before he needed to fill the silence that was quickly becoming awkward. “You know… we’ve been talking a lot… you and me. And I’ve been telling you… well… almost everything… and I just thought… it felt weird not telling you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Derek asked, as he returned to playing with the branches of the tree, his body still taut.

“I don’t know,” Stiles admitted aloud, and he was being honest. If he was trying to convince Derek that being with guys was cool, that it was something Stiles was into, then Kevin was the perfect opportunity to bring up the subject. And yet he hadn’t. Maybe he was worried that he was somehow tainted for Derek now? Maybe Derek didn’t want him spoiled. That thought curdled the eggnog in Stiles’ belly. But it didn't matter because all depended on Derek being interested and comfortable with the whole thing anyway. “I guess I just didn’t know… how you’d feel about it.”

Derek stepped back from the tree. “Sufficiently floofed?” He asked.

“Looks great,” Stiles said. And it did.

Derek joined him on the couch. Choosing to sit on the cushion just next to Stiles’ instead of at the other end of the couch.

“I hope you weren’t worried that…” Derek picked up the glass of eggnog and held it, probably just for something to focus on. “I hope you didn’t think I wouldn’t be ok with you… being…” He looked up at Stiles. And the epic spark between them was still there. 

Stiles relaxed immediately. He hadn’t even realized he’d tensed right up, but he sank back into the couch. “Bisexual I guess is the term the kids are using these days,” Stiles said with a smile.

Derek smiled back, and then a frown crept in. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out with…”

“Kevin,” Stiles supplied.

And then the most interesting thing happened. Derek lost control for the smallest second and bared his teeth at the sound of the other guy’s name.

Stiles wanted to reach out and pull Derek into a kiss, to hold him and touch him and make him smile in the best and most intimate of ways; show him that there was no one else but Derek. Instead Stiles sat back on the couch. Derek was a fucking alpha; if he wanted something bad enough, he’d chase it down. Stiles just hoped he was worth chasing.

“Have you been… dating guys… long?” Derek asked through gritted teeth as though he didn’t want to ask, but needed to.

“Dating is hard,” Stiles sighed out.

Derek laughed, and it filled up the high ceilinged room. “You’re telling me.”

“First you’ve gotta meet people, and then see if you’ve got anything in common, and then maybe move on to dating…” Stiles trailed off and leaned his head back on the couch. “It’s been hard to make time for that the last few years. With school and everything. You know me: big nerd.” He hadn’t intended it to, but it came out self deprecating.

“It’s your best quality,” Derek leaned back into the couch, finally starting to relax, mirroring Stiles’ posture.

Stiles smiled. “Thanks,” he said genuinely, before he continued on his romantic relationships rant. “Fooled around with some people at parties sometimes.”

He felt Derek tense up again next to him.

“But not much,” he added hastily. “I want a connection with someone. You know? I mean… sex is a part of that… but I want more than just sex.” It felt so good to talk to Derek about this stuff. He didn’t feel like he could confide in anyone else, always worried they’d offer advice or try to set him up or something. Derek was just always there for him. To listen. He missed it so much it hurt. Their once a week calls were good, but since he’d started keeping Kevin’s existence a secret, Stiles hadn’t been really letting loose like he used to. “God I sound so stupid. This is what people say when they’ve just been rejected I guess. Rejected at Christmastime no less.”

“No, it makes sense,” Derek said softly.

Stiles flopped his head to the side and found Derek looking at the ceiling, his eyes distant.

“It’s hard to let people in,” Derek said, “and you want to, but you really need to trust someone, you know? You can’t just give someone this huge piece of yourself when you don’t really know them. And it takes so long to really get to know someone.”

Stiles just stared. Derek never talked about himself. And that was obviously what he was doing. Coming clean about himself and why he wasn’t in a relationship.

Derek scanned the ceiling like he was reading a book, probably thinking back on the past; the few people he had shared himself with, who’d let him down. Finally Derek seemed to realize they’d been quiet for a bit and turned his head to look at Stiles. “What?” He asked, rubbing at his upper lip. “Do I have a milk moustache or something?”

Stiles shook his head, but didn’t make a joke. “Nope. You just don’t usually talk about yourself so much.”

Derek looked panicked suddenly, set his glass down on the coffee table and jumped back up. “Ok, so, what’s next?” He asked, rubbing his palms together. “I haven’t decorated a tree in a long time. Are the lights next?”

And then it hit Stiles like a bus: the last time Derek had probably decorated a Christmas tree was in this very house with his family before the fire. Of course Derek hadn’t wanted to make the place festive; the memories were probably the absolute fucking worst. To wake up alone in the big empty Hale house full of Christmas cheer and no one to share it with.

Stiles jumped up from the couch. “Holy fucking shit!” His revelation had caused an epic failure of his brain to mouth filter.

“What?” Derek looked around as though he might have missed something dangerous happening with all his epic wolf senses.

But Derek was just starting to get into the Christmas spirit. Stiles didn’t want to apologize and bring back all the ghosts of Christmas past. So he covered with a little lie that turned into the best idea ever.

“I just had the best fucking idea I have ever had, and that’s really saying something,” Stiles said.

“Better than me floofing the tree for you?”

“See,” Stiles tapped Derek’s ridiculous chest with his pointer finger, “I knew you liked that word. The pack will come stay for Christmas!”

“What?” Derek frowned.

“The pack,” Stiles said, “we’ve got enough rooms for everybody to stay at the same time. Why don’t we have a week of Christmas with everybody under the same roof?”

“Ok, first: because everyone has their own families,” Derek said, counting the reasons on his fingers, “second: we?”

“Huh?” Stiles asked.

“You said _‘we’ve_ got enough rooms.’”

“Pack house dude,” Stiles said, “you told us this house was _our_ house. Your casa es mi casa. Plus, not everyone else has families. And they can invite their families over for stuff. This house is big enough to host, like, epic keggers if we wanted. A few little Christmas celebrations won’t hurt.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Is there any way to convince you that this is a bad idea?”

“Nope, it’s happening,” Stiles said. “And lights are definitely the next step.”

Once the lights were strung, and they’d hung all the generic ornaments, Stiles fished the special box out of the bottom of one of the bags.

“Ok, so I figured since we were starting this big new Hale Christmas tradition of decking the halls and everything, I’d add a little extra Stiles tradition too,” he said, handing the box to Derek without ceremony.

Derek opened it carefully, his big hands working so delicate on the little box, until he pulled out a little grey and white ornament.

“I figured, each year, I could get you a new one,” Stiles said. “Something different. I mean, the generic ornaments look nice. But you definitely want some personality for your tree.”

Derek looped the little ribbon around his finger and let the ornament dangle. It was a timbre wolf with a Christmas hat on.

“Seemed appropriate,” Stiles felt his face heat up, and the blush slide down under his collar, no doubt lighting his chest up bright red. “I mean, I know it’s not the right colour. But it was this or the black lab with his tongue out. I thought you’d appreciate the actual wolf more, even if it’s not the right colour.”

Derek’s little half smile made an appearance as he hung the ornament front and centre on the tree.

They stood back, shoulder to shoulder and looked at the lit up, decorated tree.

“We are totally missing something,” Stiles said. “It just doesn’t look right.”

“Shouldn’t there be…” Derek pointed to the bare top of the tree. “I’m no expert, but I thought there was supposed to be a star or an angel or something.”

“Yes! Shit! I know I bought one,” Stiles turned back to the mess of bags and boxes they’d left while trimming the tree. He dug through the garbage until he found the star he’d picked out.

The moment he’d seen it, Stiles' eyes had lit up like… well… like a kid at Christmas. It wasn’t a standard tree topper. He’d never seen one quite like it. It was a crescent moon, with a small star in the centre, and the whole thing lit up.

“I’m sensing a theme here,” Derek said when he saw it.

“Come on, it’s the cutest shit and you know it,” Stiles glared as he opened the box. And then he glanced up to the top of the tree, just out of reach for both of them. “You got a ladder or something?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “We don’t need a ladder.” He took the topper from Stiles and tried to reach, but it was just a little too far.

“Don’t need a ladder, huh?” Stiles tapped his foot dramatically.

“Come here,” Derek grabbed Stiles’ forearm and tugged him closer. “If you stand on my knee you can get up there.”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Stiles put his hands up in the international hand signal of surrender. “Nope. I don’t think so. Derek, I’m the clumsiest person you’ve ever met. Do you actually think this is a good idea?”

Derek pressed the star into his hand. “Don’t be a baby,” he said, “I won’t let you fall.”

With Derek’s strength and wolf skills, Stiles knew this to be true. So he shrugged, took the topper, carefully stood on Derek’s knee, and placed the star perfectly. As he was coming down though, true to form, he lost his balance and started to tumble. Derek stood up lightning quick and got his arms around Stiles to steady him.

And then there they were. Standing face to face. Derek’s arms around Stiles’ waist, Stiles’ hands gripping Derek’s shoulders tightly. Their faces were so close. In addition to all those things, Stiles had also just come out to Derek, and that spark of attraction was still fluttering around between them. Stiles hurt with want, like an awful itch under his skin. And those green eyes just kept looking at him like he might have answers. Stiles was afraid that he didn’t.

“Are you ok?” Derek asked, still not backing away. “Your heart rate…”

Derek didn’t need to finish, Stiles could feel his heart trying to force its way out of his chest at a million beats a second. “Yeah. ‘Course. Just… with the falling…”

“But you’re ok. I caught you,” Derek frowned, his fingers flexing a little, digging in through Stiles’ shirt.

Stiles gulped, heart rate speeding up even more as he decided he was done waiting for Derek to figure his shit out. “Yeah, it’s not so much the falling as the catching that’s causing the pulse acceleration.”

“Oh,” Derek breathed the sound softly, his eyes wide. He looked unsure and disarmed and Stiles wanted to take a picture because holy hell that had never happened before. Unless, someone was hurt… after the fighting was all done and Derek didn’t know how to help. So, really, Stiles had seen it a lot. But never in a context without blood and broken bones. And most noticeably despite looking unsure, Derek didn’t let go. If anything, his arms closed a little, possessively, and his fingers dug in a little bit more.

And then Stiles did what he did so well, and tried to talk himself into a corner. “I mean… listen I understand that this isn’t really… hasn’t traditionally been your thing... I mean, maybe it has! I have no idea. You don’t really talk a lot about that. About who you’re dating, or have dated. Except exes who shall not be named. And I’m not trying to push anything here, I’m just saying that I feel things… deep meaningful things in your general direction and that if you maybe feel something like that, it’s something you should think about because I think you do… feel… things in my general direction also. I’m not trying to say that I know you, or force your hand or anything… and oh god I just realized that I’ve been blabbering to you about my love life for years and I haven’t really asked you much about yours. You could be seeing somebody right now and I would have-”

“Stiles?” Derek looked annoyed. It was one of Stiles’ favourite faces. Maybe because it was generally aimed in his direction and he was starting to think of it as annoyance mixed with fondness; after all, Derek wasn’t really great at sharing his feelings.

“Yeah? Yup? What’s up Derek?”

Derek shook his head, but a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. A good sign, right? “Shut up,” he said before he leaned forward and kissed Stiles.

Derek kissed so good. Better than anybody Stiles had kissed before. He moved in with his mouth open just a little to mist Stiles' lips with warm breath before sealing their lips together, closed and chaste. That wet breath was a promise of the hot wet dirty kisses that could and might come later. Derek’s arms closed tighter around Stiles, pulling him close; their bodies flush against each other. It was like being hugged by a burning statue; solid as stone, but putting out heat like a furnace.

They fit together perfectly, from lips all the way down. And their bodies seemed to be synced up, because they opened their mouths at the same moment to sneak tongues past each other’s lips. The wet slip slide was perfect and Stiles groaned, which caused a growl to vibrate up from Derek’s chest and into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles felt it the whole way.

Derek’s hands slid back around and up to Stiles’ face to hold it tenderly.

As their feet stumbled together, knees knocking almost painfully, their kisses became pornographic; tongues were erratic and everywhere, sometimes missing each other’s mouths while spit leaked down lips to chins.

Derek tipped him back onto the couch, following him down. God, Derek was laying on top of him. Gravity pulled them together in the best way, and Stiles let his legs fall open so Derek could settle between them.

Stiles’ hands wandered down, pulling at the hem of Derek’s shirt; a soft invitation, not a demand. Derek let him slide the shirt up slowly and propped himself awkwardly on one arm and then the other until they had it off. Stiles grabbed the back of Derek’s neck and pulled him down for another kiss, messy and desperate, as Stiles’ other hand roamed naked skin. Skin he’d seen on display a zillion million times but had never been allowed to touch.

Derek groaned and growled into their mouths, and his hips started a slow hard grinding against Stiles’ body.

Stiles let his hips respond in kind, and suddenly Derek stopped. Stopped everything: kissing, dry humping. He hung his head over onto Stiles’ shoulder breathing heavily.

Stiles took his hands away from Derek’s skin, and brought them up to his hair, running his fingers softly, and hopefully comfortingly, through the thick black hair.

“You ok?” Stiles asked, hoping that Derek wasn’t having a freak out about the whole thing.

“I don’t…” Derek’s voice was soft, unsure. He pushed his head into Stiles’ hands, like he was grateful for the contact. “I’ve never been with a guy before. I don’t know… how to… well, anything.”

Stiles gently turned Derek’s head toward him. Derek’s eyes were closed, a look of shame destroying his face.

“Trust me, we aren’t gonna get to anything you need to know much about right now,” Stiles said with a little huff of laughter. “I don’t think either of us is gonna make it that far. I mean, I guess I shouldn’t speak for you, but I’m pretty close already.”

Derek smiled at that, but his eyes stayed closed.

“Derek?” Stiles ventured. “Open your eyes.”

Derek obeyed immediately. His irises were bright red.

Stiles gasped and his hips jerked upward. He took a settling breath in, and then let it out through the small “o” he made of his lips, trying to breathe out steadily. It didn’t work and his whole body quaked.

Derek locked their mouths together again, frantic as his body started moving again all at once. It was too much. Stiles was going to come in his pants like an idiot, like a kid. The friction of his tight jeans and Derek’s impossibly hard dick through layers and layers of clothing was doing something to him.

“Wait! Wait!” Stiles got out through a mouthful of Derek’s tongue.

Derek pushed up and away, his face frightened.

Stiles held on tight and didn’t let Derek pull all the way back. “No, no, it’s so good. Too good, big guy,” he said.

Derek’s face relaxed.

“I just wanted to ask,” Stiles ventured carefully. He didn’t want to scare Derek away. “Can I…” He let his hands trail down Derek’s stomach to play with the button of his jeans and make his intentions fairly clear. “Is it… would it be ok… if…”

Derek smirked, the fucker. “Out with it Stiles.”

“Jesus! Fine! Can I go down on you, alright?”

Derek’s eyes went wide, and his bottom lip quivered. He nodded almost immediately.

Stiles pushed him up to sit on the couch, and Derek let him, which made arousal stir in Stiles’ gut like going down the hill on a roller coaster.

Derek sat back, as though he was just about to turn on the TV, except that his body was tight, every muscles tensed in anticipation. Stiles knelt on the floor in front of him, and pushed his knees aside to slip between them. He reached with shaky hands to undo the button. Derek leaned forward, grabbed the hem of Stiles’ shirt and pulled it up, forcing his hands overhead. As soon as the fabric was out of the way, Derek’s mouth was on his, fast and hungry and sloppy. They stopped kissing, but their lips rested together, heavy breaths mingling between them.

“Seems only fair,” Derek said. “A shirt for a shirt.”

Stiles couldn’t help the laughter that nervously tripped out of him. Derek barked a little laugh in return and managed one more quick kiss before Stiles pushed him back into the cushions. The laughter died on his lips as Derek’s pupils grew and his fingers dug into the cushions in anticipation.

Stiles mouth started talking before he could stop it. “Make sure to watch that wolfy strength there big guy,” he pointed to Derek’s hands. “Don’t wanna wreck the couch or anything.”

“You seem pretty confidant,” Derek smirked, but his voice was rough. “What makes you think you’re gonna drive me that crazy?”

“Challenge accepted,” Stiles said with a grin before he tackled Derek’s jeans, popping the button and sliding the zipper down. He slid his fingers into the waistband of jeans and underwear together, and tugged, requesting cooperation.

Derek obeyed, and the way he thrust his hips up and off the couch was obscene, tensing every muscle in his upper body in the most distracting way. Stiles groaned, but pulled the offending clothing down and off, watching with anticipation as he did so. The moment Derek’s cock slipped free of his underwear, even without wolf senses Stiles could smell the arousal coming off him. It smelled so good. Stiles couldn’t wait to taste it.

Stiles had given his fair share of blow jobs, and gone down on his fair share of women during his years of experimenting at college. It was something he did because he really got off on the person he was with enjoying themselves. He liked offering up that pleasure to other people. But he’d never particularly cared for the taste of it. Men, women, it didn’t matter. The taste just… didn’t do it for him. The person writhing under his tongue and moaning his name compensated handsomely, but he’d never understood people who enjoyed the taste.

But something about the way that Derek smelled, the way his foreskin rolled over the end of his cock, the velvety look of the skin; everything about it made Stiles think he would like the taste, made him crave it in his mouth.

He slipped Derek’s pants from his ankles and threw them over his shoulder before he knelt tall and moved forward, his ribcage pressing against the inside of Derek’s naked thighs. Skin pressed to skin.

Derek Hale’s naked thighs! Stiles shuddered at the realization that it was finally happening.

He ran his hands from Derek’s kneecaps, up the hair covering his legs to hipbones and stomach that rippled with shaky breaths. Stiles leaned forward and planted a kiss just above bellybutton, letting Derek’s cock press hard against Stiles’ collarbone and throat.

Derek panted, his stomach shifting and heaving under Stiles’ mouth.

“It’s not…” Derek groaned as Stiles’ tongue dipped into his belly button. “Going to last very long.”

“That’s ok,” Stiles said, “we’ll just have to go again later.” He nibbled at the skin around Derek’s navel, starting to work his way lower.

Derek threw his head back and moaned obscenely, his hips thrusting up a little, rubbing his cock against Stiles’ throat.

“I’m guessing that means yes?” Stiles asked. “You’d like to do this again…” His insecurity was creeping in, and he suddenly realized that he’d spent so much time talking about experimenting in college that maybe that’s all Derek was looking for; fun with someone who was looking to just have fun with people. Maybe Derek was just looking for someone willing to try some stuff with; experiment. “Assuming, that you’d like to… keep… on with this after…”

Derek looked down, his face all sincerity with an undercurrent of want. He took Stiles’ face in his hands, his voice was soft when he spoke. “As many times as you want, for as long as you keep me around.”

Stiles leaned forward, tall as he could make himself, grabbed the back of Derek’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Stiles felt longing in it, a pent up longing that had waited for too long, and boatloads of affection. It was in the way that Derek held his face tenderly, but the way his tongue seemed to be trying to make up for lost time.

Stiles pushed him back again. And Derek let him, and it sent another wave of arousal down Stiles’ body to spike just below his gut. Derek submitting was something he never knew he needed. All of his fantasies about Derek had always centred around being gently dominated; hands held above his head while Derek took control, stuff like that. Instead Derek was the one here with no experience, waiting for Stiles to show him what to do, how to love him.

Stiles nuzzled Derek’s hipbone, darting his tongue out to lick the skin there while Derek’s hips shimmied and thrust, trying to get Stiles closer to where they both wanted him to be.

Stiles huffed a laugh. He wanted to draw it out, make it last, but he really couldn’t argue with how bad Derek seemed to want him. It was doing things to him inside, making him melt.

So Stiles gave in to what they both wanted so badly he could smell it in the air. He met Derek’s eyes while he gently slid his fingers around Derek’s cock, tightening his grip before he experimentally stroked slowly up and then down, pulling the foreskin down all the way and watching intently as it revealed another layer of skin.

Derek’s eyes didn’t roll back, didn’t close, they stayed locked on Stiles while Derek spoke. “Oh my god, Stiles,” he voice was deep and gravelly, almost a growl, but his eyes stayed green.

“Keep talking,” Stiles demanded before he leaned forward and unceremoniously took Derek into his mouth.

The taste exploded on his tongue in the absolute best way possible. It was masculine and salty and tangy and Derek through and through. No one had ever tasted good before, but Stiles couldn’t get enough of Derek. His mouth watered immediately making the first slide down slick and easy. And the skin was soft and velvety and perfect on his tongue.

“Oh my god,” Derek breathed out again, his voice shaking, hands tightening in the pillows. “Stiles. Your mouth. I always…” He groaned loud as Stiles pulled back up and then immediately slid back down, his hand holding lower, and following the movement of his mouth.

On the third slide down Stiles let Derek hit his throat, and he held there for a moment before pulling back up. The taste intensified, and he guessed that Derek was getting close.

“Always… your mouth,” Derek babbled, following Stiles’ instruction to keep talking. “Always watched your mouth and thought about…”

Stiles pulled off with a lewd, wet sound, a trail of saliva still connecting them. “Thought about how to shut me up?” Stiles asked through wet lips that were already raw from the friction.

“Stiles,” Derek growled, “don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

It was the please that sent Stiles into overdrive. Derek didn’t ask, he demanded. Derek asking for something was a huge deal. After spreading some of the saliva further down with his hand, Stiles took Derek into his mouth again and moved faster now. All he wanted in the world was for Derek to come, for Derek to feel so good. And he wanted to taste him, all of him. Stiles had never let someone come in his mouth before, but no one had ever tasted good from the start.

“Stilesstilesstiles,” Derek let his name run together over and over like he couldn’t say anything else. His hands moved to Stiles’ hair, which had grown longer; long enough to hold, or tug, or pull a little. Derek’s hands fisted there, holding but not tugging or forcing anything. Stiles looked up to see Derek’s face. When their eyes met, there was a flash of red, but only for an instant before Derek’s green was back again with seemingly no effort. As though Derek wanted to let him know that all parts of him wanted this, loved it. He still chanted Stiles’ name on repeat, which just urged Stiles to go faster, and add more suction.

“Oh my god!” Derek did growl this time. It started as a rumble in his chest and bled out into his words. “Stiles. Holy shit Stiles I’m gonna…” 

He tugged at Stiles’ hair now, trying to pull him off. But Stiles was determined. He wanted Derek’s come in his mouth more than anything, wanted to taste that pure bit of Derek. He pushed back down against Derek’s pull, stroking tightly with his hand at the same time.

“Stiles! I’m coming!” Derek’s shout boiled into a roar that trailed to a whine as he flooded Stiles’ mouth. Their eyes were still intensely locked together as Stiles pulled off, stroking one last time as Derek groaned.

And god, the taste. It was everything else times a hundred, and Stiles savoured it on his tongue for a while before he swallowed it down with a heavy gulp that made Derek’s eyes widen. It started to fade from his mouth almost immediately, the saliva washing away that wonderful flavour. So Stiles leaned forward and sucked him in again, still half-hard, and there was plenty left to taste. It wasn’t long before Derek was writhing under him, overstimulated, and Stiles pulled off, content that he’d cleaned up every last bit of that amazing taste.

Derek was out of breath. Take a picture, make a note, mark the calendar; aside from being injured, Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Derek out of breath. Score one for Stiles’ blowjobs.

“What are you smiling at?” Derek panted.

“Just hoping you enjoyed yourself,” Stiles said. His knees were starting to ache and he sat back on his heels, which only made the pressure in his pants more intense.

“What are you doing?” Derek said, almost desperately, leaning forward and reaching out for Stiles. “Get up here.”

He pulled Stiles forward, and then up to standing. Stiles moved to get into Derek’s lap, but Derek held him steady on his feet instead, and undid the button of his pants. He pulled the jeans and underwear down slowly. Stiles steadied himself with a hand on Derek’s shoulder as he stepped out of them and let Derek throw them a few feet away next to Derek’s jeans. Their clothes, gathered together on the floor in a heap.

Stiles tingled all over from the coolness across his body, and he felt goosebumps break out across his pale skin.

Derek took his hands and pulled him forward, and Stiles crawled into his lap, straddling his hips. As he settled down, he rubbed against Derek’s half-hard cock and groaned. He was going to come immediately like some kid, and he didn’t care. He looked down at Derek and noticed suddenly that the light was fading, and the sun wasn’t lighting up the room like it had been. Derek’s wonderful body was lit by the colourful lights from the tree, a warm mixture that caused shadows to play across his torso. Stiles shivered, half from the cold, and half from looking at the beautiful man under him; a man who wanted him.

“You’re cold,” Derek said softly and more tenderly than Stiles thought him capable of. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist, running his hands up from lower back to shoulder blades, and forcing Stiles down on top of him.

Their bodies met, and Derek was fever-hot. Stiles curled over and tucked his face into Derek’s neck. Derek hummed at the contact of Stiles’ lips and kissed at Stiles’ shoulder in return.

Stiles didn’t realize his hips were moving, trying to find friction and release, until Derek’s hand snuck between them and wrapped tight around him. Stiles’ back arched and he let out an undignified yelp. He sat back to watch as large, deft fingers stroked him fast. Derek stopped, and Stiles whined loud, reaching for the hand, wanting to pull it back. Derek brought it to his mouth and covered it in spit before he obeyed and started stroking again; fast and tight and perfect.

Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek, shoved his way into Derek’s mouth, letting his groans share space with their writhing tongues. Derek’s other hand was still resting comfortably on Stiles’ back, a wonderful weight holding him down so he didn’t float away.

The orgasm surprised him. He thought it was still building, still strokes away, when suddenly it hit him in the gut like a punch and he broke the kiss almost violently to grunt and choke out words through the bliss that rushed through him. His cheek was pressed to Derek’s, stubble rough against scruff as he shouted into Derek’s ear. “Derek! OhmygodDerek! You’re fucking perfect! Holy fuck! I love you so much Derek! Pleasedon’tstop. Please Derek. Please.” The last tapered to a whine.

Derek kept stroking as requested, and brought his other hand to the back of Stiles’ neck to ground him. Their cheeks stayed pressed together until Stiles couldn’t bear the feeling of Derek’s hand anymore and stilled it with his own. Derek didn’t loosen his grip, just stopped moving his hand, and somehow the contact was comforting.

He sat back and looked down. His come covered Derek’s stomach and chest, and something deep inside Stiles felt so satisfied at that.

Derek finally let go, and brought his hand up to rub at the mess on his stomach, moving it around and rubbing it into his skin.

“Everyone will know,” Derek said simply, but there wasn’t regret in it, there was pride.

“Everyone will know what?” Stiles asked. He knew, but he wanted Derek to say it out loud.

“We smell like each other,” Derek said, “everyone will know that we belong to each other.” He kept rubbing the come into his skin while he spoke. “But you knew what I meant.” He smiled full this time, no longer any need to hide behind a smirk or a half-smile. “So why did you ask?”

“I wanted to hear you say it,” Stiles admitted, leaning in for a kiss. 

It was a soft kiss, slower, a kiss that promised all the time in the world. When Stiles leaned back, Derek brought the come-covered hand up to his mouth and licked at his fingers, his eyes rolling up as he tongued at the tip of his ring finger.

“That good, huh?” Stiles asked.

“You have… no idea,” Derek said, and when he opened his eyes they flashed red again. “It’s like… the way you smell, and the sound of your heartbeat and your breathing, distilled so I can taste it.”

Stiles took Derek’s hand and licked at one of the fingers. It tasted weird, like the other people he’d gone down on, not great like Derek, but there was something familiar about it that he didn’t hate; like tasting his own morning breath: gross, but it was his own.

And suddenly the world flipped upside down, and Stiles was on his back, with Derek between his legs again. Their bodies flush together naked felt so good Stiles wanted to cry.

“I want to take you to bed, and not get out for a week,” Derek growled, “at least.”

“I am so ok with this plan, aside from the missing Christmas part,” Stiles said. “But first I should tell you: that stuff I said when I was… when you were… before I… when you had your hands on me and you were driving me crazy…”

Derek looked a little worried. “Yeah?”

“I meant it all,” Stiles replied. “I’m not one of those ‘say things I don’t mean in the heat of the moment’ people. That was legitimate feelings there. I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t just-”

“I love you too, Stiles,” Derek said, his eyes softening before he nuzzled into Stiles neck.

Stiles leaned his head back, baring his throat to appease his alpha.

Derek licked at the artery, just in case it wasn’t clear what was happening. Stiles laughed a little at the unnecessary show of dominance, and his throat vibrated against Derek’s tongue.

And then Derek pushed up on his elbows and looked around like he heard something bad, far off.

“What’s up?” Stiles asked, worried.

“Cars,” Derek said. “Two cars. Sounds like… the pack.”

“Oh shit! Shit shit shit!” Stiles exclaimed, straining his neck to look for his phone, like he could somehow rectify the situation in the next fifteen seconds with a text.

“What?” Derek asked.

“I told the pack to meet me here at seven because I had a surprise for them,” Stiles groaned. “This was not the surprise I had in mind,” he said, lightly slapping Derek’s naked butt for emphasis.

And suddenly Derek wasn’t on top of him anymore. He was just gone. Damn stupid werewolf speed.

Stiles jumped up and went for his clothes, but there was only empty floor. There were no clothes left at all in the living room. In his hurry to not be caught butt naked by his pack, Derek must have scooped up all the clothes and taken them with him.

The front door opened, and Stiles was trapped with nowhere to go. The staircase to the bedrooms was now on the other side of a pack of werewolves, and Stiles assumed that was where Derek had gone with their clothes.

Stiles fumbled around the living room, but there wasn’t anything. No blankets on the couch because werewolves all ran so damn hot they didn’t need blankets. He tore through the packages and boxes on the floor and grabbed the last thing for the tree they hadn’t used yet.

“What in the-” Scott’s voice echoed around the big vaulted living room.

Stiles turned quickly, holding the tree skirt in front of himself to avoid any further scrutiny.

“Finally!” Erica said, walking right up to Stiles and offering her hand for a high five.

“You probably don’t want…” Stiles held the tree skirt tightly with both hands. “Like… I’m definitely going to have to wash this thing… my hands aren’t the… cleanest at the moment if you get my not-so-subtle drift.”

“Gross,” she said, “still awesome. But yeah, thanks for saving me from that.” She clapped him on the shoulder hard and walked back to where the pack stood near the archway from the hall.

Boyd stood silent, and just shook his head, but Stiles thought he saw a smile trying to happen on his big stupid handsome face.

Issac was giggling, legitimately giggling, seemingly unable to stop.

Lydia's eyes were wide with shock, but she tilted her head to the side as though she was trying to see through the tree skirt.

Scott walked closer. “Dude, when you said you had a surprise for us-”

“This is not the surprise I meant!” Stiles said loudly, his voice cracking a little like it used to when he was a teenager.

Scott cringed as soon as Stiles opened his mouth. “Oh god, your breath dude. Nasty!”

“What?”

“Go brush your teeth is what,” Scott replied, “I really don’t need to smell that the whole time I’m talking to you.”

“And put some clothes on while you’re at it,” Jackson added, “this is way more of you than I ever wanted to see.”

"I hate to say it, but I agree with Jackson," Allison added unnecessarily.

Derek came down the hallway, fully covered again in his henley and sexy black jeans, and leaned dramatically in the archway behind everyone.

“You suck!” Stiles pointed at Derek, but there wasn’t any heat in it and Derek just smiled. Stiles could see the unspoken jab in that smile, coupled with some lust: no, you were the one sucking, if I remember right.

Stiles readjusted and wrapped the tree skirt around his waist like a very unmanly and festive tutu.

“For the record, the surprise was Christmas!” Stiles said, feeling his entire body turn red as he walked with as much dignity as he could summon toward the hall. To their credit, no one said anything as he passed by.

No one except Derek. “There’s mouthwash under the sink,” he said with a grin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack stays at the Hale House the week leading up to Christmas.
> 
> Derek's been dying to get time alone with Stiles.
> 
> The pack knows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is being posted after Christmas! I just didn't get it done in time. 
> 
> I think it's still close enough though... so I'm posting it this year instead of waiting a year.
> 
> This chapter is 100% pure smut. And feels. There are many feels. I cannot write one without the other.

“This is, without doubt, the worst idea you’ve ever had,” Derek said softly. He lay in his bed, only in his boxers, next to Stiles who also was only in his boxers.

They’d just woken up as the house around them started stirring to life. Well… Derek had woken up, even the tiniest noise bringing him around; His shifting in the bed had roused Stiles, who’d been sleeping basically on top of him.

So much of their skin was touching, and yet it wasn’t enough. Derek wondered if it would ever be enough, or if he would crave more and more of Stiles until the world ended.

“Nope, it was a great idea,” Stiles mumbled against skin where his face was smooshed into Derek’s chest. “I only have good ideas now. I’m in college… only great ideas.”

Derek started to chuckle and it rumbled into laughter. Some of the noise in the house stilled, and he knew the wolves were listening to him laugh. He didn’t care. He even heard Boyd say loudly (on purpose): “About damn time.”

Stiles pulled his head up, starting to come awake. Derek had spent the week learning what morning Stiles was like, and how hilarious and adorable he was. It took a good thirty solid minutes for Stiles to go from asleep to functioning human again, and in that thirty minutes it was mumbles and tousled hair, and half finished thoughts, and sentences that came half from dreams and half from reality. Derek loved every second. Sometimes coffee helped speed up the process, but it was generally a rule that Stiles in the morning was adorable.

Stiles’ voice was soft, his eyes a little sad. He’d become very good over the years at pitching his words too low for wolves in other rooms to hear. “You didn’t… enjoy them being here?”

Derek spoke softly too, the arm he had wrapped around Stiles’ back tightening. “It was great,” he admitted, “really. I just wish I had more time alone with you.”

Alone time had been impossible to come by. With so many people in the house, they were never alone, not really; not when at any given time there was at least one wolf in the house with hearing that could pierce walls even when people were being quiet. And Derek didn’t trust Stiles to be quiet when they…

Stiles’ eyebrows waggled adorably. “Ooooh. Alone time.” He winked. “I get you.”

They’d been doing what they could, showering together each morning and trying to be quieter than the spray and water gurgling in the drain. They had failed at least one morning when Erica awkwardly pointed it out at breakfast.

“Speaking of, is it shower time?” Stiles asked, his hand slipping down Derek’s stomach and snapping the waistband of his boxers.

Derek laughed again.

Scott’s voice came in and out from down the hall: “-so good… him laughing.” He sounded so happy. Happy that Derek was happy. He hadn’t realized that was part of the key to his pack stability: being happy himself. 

The last few days everyone had seemed so much more at ease. He’d put it down to Stiles being home; everyone loved Stiles, and he was part of the pack. But it was more than that. The way they all looked at Derek when he smiled, as though something profound had happened. The heart of it was all Stiles, no matter which way you looked at it. Stiles was the key.

“It was a perfect plan, Stiles,” Derek said softly, nuzzling at Stiles’ temple where he still smelled like sleep and Derek.

“The pack staying, or the shower?” Stiles asked, grinning against Derek’s skin.

“Both.”

They walked to the ensuite together, their hands never leaving each other, always touching even if it was soft and barely there; Stiles’ fingers tickling down Derek’s back while he leaned in to turn the water on.

Once Derek turned on the shower to let it warm up, Stiles pulled him into a loose embrace, fingers trailing here and there, arms slung loosely over shoulders.

“I like waking up with you,” Stiles admitted, warm eyes still sleepy as he met Derek’s gaze.

Derek felt too much, and ducked his head into Stiles’ neck, pretending passion to cover his weakness. His eyes stung, and he wondered exactly what would happen when the holidays were over, when Stiles left. “You’re just ok,” Derek said, licking Stiles’ neck.

Stiles laughed, and Derek felt it vibrate through the skin he tongued at.

“I’m awesome and you know it,” Stiles said.

Derek kissed from collarbone down to the wonderful tufts of chest hair he loved. “You are,” he admitted as he moved lower and pushed Stiles’ underwear to the floor. When he stood up he slipped his own off.

“I am what?” Stiles asked with a grin and quirked eyebrow. “I don’t think you finished that sentence.”

Derek pressed forward, Stiles’ backed up against the vanity, their bodies meeting perfectly. Derek stifled Stiles’ groan with a kiss.

“You _are_ awesome,” Derek said when he leaned away and then kissed at Stiles’ cheeks as they burned red. He loved that he could make Stiles blush so easily, with simple words and praise.

Steam started to billow out of the shower door, and Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and pulled him into the warmth.

The shower was gigantic, with a shower head above as well as on the wall. Derek remembered when they’d started picking out fixtures and planning the master ensuite. Stiles had been very insistent about certain things, adamant that Derek would thank him later. And Derek had thanked him, so happy with the renovations and additions Stiles had suggested. But now, knowing what Derek knew, he looked back and wondered if Stiles hadn’t been helping design a home he dreamed of living in, a life he dreamed of living.

Derek pulled Stiles in under the raindrop soft spray from the ceiling shower head. Their bodies came together slick and wonderful, all hard sliding planes and curves. They kissed and failed to keep water from cascading through their mouths as they struggled for breath while they rubbed more and more frantically against each other.

This was how it had been every morning all week. Each and every day they spent the whole day with loving, G-rated touches when all they both wanted was to drag each other to bed and fuck themselves into exhaustion. Instead they shared this time in the morning to let out all that pent up frustration before starting it all over again.

They panted against each other’s skin, careful not to moan or call out; trying to keep their voices lower than the sound of spraying water.

“Quiet,” Derek warned softly as he slid a large hand between them.

“If you want me to be quiet,” Stiles huffed with a smile, “you should not do what you’re about to do.”

Derek put his other hand to the back of Stiles’ head, guiding his face into the crook of Derek’s neck and shoulder. And then he took them both in hand, fingers tight around their slick skin, and set a brutal, rough pace. The water provided a little slickness, but not without friction the way lube or spit would have, and he felt every rub of skin on skin.

Stiles opened his mouth against Derek’s neck and hummed into his skin. Any little noises that spilled out of him were muffled in the comfort of Derek’s body.

To his own surprise, Derek came first. He grunted softly as his hips thrust up into his own hand, against Stiles, still looking for more, wanting more. That had been his whole week: wanting more of Stiles than just this beautiful friction. He wanted to feel Stiles from the inside. And he wanted to hear him too. No more careful, quiet orgasms.

“I want to make you scream,” Derek panted so quietly into Stiles’ ear.

And then Stiles came, and bit down on Derek’s neck. And that definitely did something for Derek. The wolf instincts in him surged and said: yes! This is what sex should be! A claiming of each other!

Stiles’ body went limp and he leaned back against the tiled shower wall. “Me too,” he said so quietly that Derek barely heard him over the water splashing and trickling around them.

Derek stepped forward between Stiles’ legs, spread wide to support his orgasm-weak body. Derek nuzzled down into Stiles’ neck, and slid his arms between hot body and cold, wet tile.

“I know big guy,” Stiles said with meaning, running his hands up Derek’s back and into his hair.

Derek wondered what he was responding to: the nuzzling? The holding? And then he realized that he was whining, his throat emitting a low whimper. How had he not realized? Not had control of that? It was pure feeling rolling out of his body, and Stiles understood. 

Derek cut it short before the pack heard such an awful sound of distress from their alpha and decided to bust open the bathroom door. 

Their bodies still pressed together, Derek moved his head back enough to look into Stiles’ beautiful, warm brown eyes. His eyelids were a little droopy, still hazy from sex, and Derek wanted to see that look on his face every single day; wanted to share his home with Stiles.

And then it hit Derek in the head like a train; he’d built a den for his family, a home. Not only that, but every time a big decision had needed making, he’d ensured Stiles was involved. He’d been building a home to share with Stiles the whole time without even realizing it.

But Stiles had to go back to college. Derek wouldn’t hold him back. He couldn’t do that and ever feel good about their relationship.

“Derek?” Stiles asked, his eyes getting wider with concern as his brows came together. He put his hands to Derek’s cheeks.

Derek pushed into the touch. “Stiles?” He asked, going for a sly smile and trying to push his doubts down inside. He had Stiles with him now. They were naked and pressed against each other. He would worry about goodbyes later.

Stiles’ face relaxed. “A few things,” he said, still gently. “First: if we don’t get outta here I’m gonna be a prune. Second: if you keep leaning against me like this, you’re gonna give me another hard on, which we don’t actually have time to deal with right now. Third: Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Derek said against Stiles’ lips. He gave him a soft and tender kiss before he stepped back.

“Did I… actually suggest you moving away?” Stiles’ hands scrabbled at Derek’s forearms, in a pantomime of trying to pull him back into an embrace. “Well, that was really stupid of me.”

Derek stepped under the hot spray one more time to wash away the mess they’d made. He watched as the mingled scent of him and Stiles made the shower floor a little murky before it slipped down the drain.

Stiles’ arms circled his waist from the back for a moment, before Stiles spoke into his ear: “My turn.”

Derek gave him one more soft kiss on the cheek before he pushed out into the cool air of the bathroom and grabbed for his towel.

“Hey lovebirds,” Erica said as Derek and Stiles wandered into the kitchen, catching hold of each other anyway they could: the tickle of fingers on a wrist, hand on the small of a back when walking past.

“Coffee!” Stiles exclaimed as he pushed through the pack to the pot.

The kitchen was big, but it had become habit for everyone to gather there in the morning and be together, be close. So Derek watched Stiles fight his way through a crowd of werewolves, desperate for his morning caffeine.

“What, exactly, do you need such a large cup of coffee for?” Lydia asked with a raised eyebrow. “Did you not get much sleep?”

Isaac smiled. “They’ve been pretty quiet actually,” he said, “they’ve been getting lots of sleep.”

"Stiles snores a little," Erica said.

"Do not!" Stiles protested as he poured a steaming cup of coffee.

“There might be something wrong with your shower though,” Boyd said, “I heard a distinct groaning noise this morning. Maybe the pipes need some work.”

Stiles grinned into his cup as he slurped coffee.

Derek frowned. “What’s on the agenda for today?” He asked, skirting the shower subject as he hovered at the edges of the pack.

“Presents!” Stiles exclaimed, brain starting to come online after consuming coffee. He waded back through the wolves and headed toward the living room.

“We’d better get in there,” Scott said, grabbing a piece of toast, “before he opens everyone else’s presents too.”

Derek smiled, and let everyone else file out ahead of him. He didn’t need to go first to prove his dominance; everyone knew he was alpha.

There was a gift for everyone. And a few for Derek. Mostly things for the pack house; most notably a Playstation.

He watched proudly as everyone sat around the tree, some crosslegged on the rug, some perched on the couch, almost all of them touching each other constantly; the reassuring, comforting, trusting touches of a good, solid pack.

Derek sat on the couch, Stiles on the floor in front of him, leaned back against his shins. Every once in a while, Derek would reach down and run a hand through Stiles’ hair, or pinch lovingly at his shoulder, or even wrap his forearm around Stiles’ throat for a quick hug. It felt so good to be at ease and show affection. Each time he did, Stiles would press back against him a little harder, or reach a hand up and pat his knee. It was perfect.

Once the living room was a sea of ripped up paper and laughing, happy wolves, Issac and Boyd retreated to the kitchen to whip up a very large batch of bacon and scrambled eggs. They delivered plates of food to everyone who ravenously dug in.

Stiles turned to look up at Derek. “Sorry there’s nothing from me,” he said quietly. “I sorta blew my budget on you, on the tree and decorations and stuff.”

Derek shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, “it’s perfect. So long as you put it up again next year.”

Stiles nodded, his cheeks flushing. Derek wanted to kiss the flush of blood, and make Stiles go even more red, but he held himself back.

“Alright, that smells like my queue,” Erica said with a pointed look at Derek. “Come on Boyd, let’s get rolling.”

“Rolling where?” Stiles asked, disappointment evident in his voice.

“Places to be, people to meet and all that,” Erica said, standing up and grabbing her little pile of presents. Derek hadn’t paid enough attention to what everyone had gotten, he’d been too distracted by Stiles sitting next to him, openly giving him affection.

“But you’re coming back for dinner tonight?” Stiles asked.

“Not tonight,” Boyd added. “As much fun as it’s been, it’ll be good to have a night alone.” He looked pointedly from Derek to Stiles and back.

They gathered their stuff from their room and headed out.

Lydia was next. “Ok, we’re gonna go too,” she said. “I’ve got to make an appearance. You know how it is.”

“Of course,” Derek nodded.

Lydia pulled Jackson up from the floor and they followed Erica and Boyd out into the day.

“I told my dad I’d spend Christmas with him,” Allison said as she stuffed wrapping paper into a garbage bag.

“Here, let me get that,” Stiles said, getting up. 

It was almost physically painful to lose the warmth of Stiles pressed against his legs. He almost gasped with the sensation. And then he realized that Stiles was scrambling to tidy the den, like it was his own home and Derek felt warmed through again.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it,” Allison finished the job efficiently. “Thanks for everything. This week was great.”

“Yeah, it really was,” Stiles said. “I have the best ideas.”

“Scott?” Allison asked.

“Oh, right! I’m your ride, aren’t I?” Scott said, jumping to his feet.

“You’re coming back for dinner, right?” Stiles asked.

Scott shook his head. “Dinner with my mom,” he said, “I invited Isaac too. You coming?”

Issac nodded. “I’ll be right there.”

Scott and Allison retreated upstairs.

“See, we all talked about it and thought it would be good for you guys to have a day or two alone,” Issac said. “It’s nothing personal… well… I mean.” He rolled his eyes and smiled. “You get it,” he said before heading upstairs to pack his stuff.

Derek and Stiles stood at the door and said goodbye to Scott, Allison and Issac.

Stiles closed the door, and the very second it clicked shut, Derek locked it and pressed Stiles back against it.

He didn’t close his mouth over Stiles' immediately, instead started kissing under his ear and down his throat.

Stiles’ entire body went tight, and he let out a tiny whimper, but nothing more.

Derek stood back, panting. “God Stiles, I’ve been waiting to hear you make noise all week,” he said, “be loud. Or I’ll make you.” The last came out frustrated and demanding.

“I just…” Stiles swallowed heavily. “Wanted to wait until they got in the car at least.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder to the driveway beyond the door. “Or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

The engine revved as the car crunched down the gravel drive.

“They’re gone,” Derek growled before he returned his attention to Stiles’ throat and collarbone.

“NnnnnnDerek!” Stiles called out, his voice echoing in the entryway. “If you don’t take me upstairs right now and absolutely fuck my brains out I’ll be very angry with you.”

Derek groaned into Stiles’ skin and pressed him harder into the door, their hardness pressing together through their jeans. “Who says we’ll even make it that far?” Derek asked desperately.

Stiles pushed against him, and Derek let himself get pushed back. He loved the flare of lust in Stiles’ eyes when he got to manhandle a big tough alpha around. He’d seen it that first day when they’d been fooling around and had made a very large mental note, underlined... with exclamation marks.

“Me is who says,” Stiles answered. “Cause lube isn’t just a luxury, it’s a necessity. Especially because I’m not…” His face coloured red again.

“Not…” Derek left the word hanging for Stiles to continue.

“It’s not like I’m some big slut or anything,” Stiles supplied, “I’ve only bottomed a few times and I’ll probably need some… serious foreplay, ok? Don’t forget I’ve had my hands on your dick all week, and I’m telling you that if it’s going to be inside me, which it definitely is, I’m going to need a lot of attention first.”

Derek moaned loud and finally kissed Stiles, their tongues fighting almost violently. Images flashed through Derek’s mind, of places his fingers were free to roam now that they were alone. And he had all the time in the world, and was allowed to go slow and do what he wanted, as long as it was what Stiles wanted. The images made arousal tingle across his skin everywhere and he pressed hard into Stiles, panting into his ear.

It felt like there was a fire burning inside Derek and that he was going to explode or combust or both. Like he was being torn open by excitement, his brain slowly melting out of his ears. The only thing he focused on, with every enhanced sense he possessed, was Stiles. The way he smelled: the punch of arousal in the air even with their clothes still on. The taste of Stiles on his tongue. The hitch in his breathing and the racing of his pulse.

And then he thought about just how far away upstairs seemed. Miles. Leagues. Too far.

“I can’t…” Derek managed to stutter out. “Can’t… can’t wait that long.” He fell to his knees and let the fire out, let it take over. His normally nimble fingers fumbled at Stiles’ pants until they were open. He pulled them down along with Stiles’ boxers.

“Derek what-” Stiles’ voice was squeaky and erratic.

“Wanted to…” Derek licked his lips and looked at Stiles’ hard cock, which seemed so very out of place since Stiles was otherwise fully clothed. “Wanted to taste you all week. You smell so good. I want…” Words left him and Derek leaned forward and took Stiles into his mouth, as far as he could until he gagged a little and then pulled back to tongue at the head. And it tasted better than he had dreamed. And Derek had been thinking about it a lot. Wondered if the taste would be like Stiles’ come, or if it would taste more the way his arousal smelled. With his senses, when Stiles was really excited in the mornings, just before they stepped into the shower, Derek could open his mouth and taste it on the air. It tasted like that, but a hundred times more intense. Derek rolled his tongue around to find the places that tasted the best.

Stiles’ head hit the door hard, and he made an obscene noise into the air. “Holy fuck Derek!” He yelled out into the hall.

Derek growled approvingly and tightened his lips around Stiles as a reward.

“Holy… shit! God, Derek!” Stiles’ fingers tugged in his hair and pulled a little. “Derek, you’ve gotta… I can’t… I want to do other stuff and I… Nnnnnthat’samazingI’mgoingtodie!” He tugged harder on Derek’s hair, and it just made him want to do more, to make Stiles really fall apart. “I’m not going to last if you keep - Derek!”

Derek slowly slid up, leaving a wake of saliva behind and let Stiles pop out of his mouth. Derek panted out his next words. “I don’t… want you… to last… Stiles.” He added a grin as punctuation.

Stiles closed his eyes and leaned back against the door. “But I want to…”

“Stiles,” Derek let his voice tumble into serious, and sat back on his heels. “Stiles, look at me.”

Stiles opened his eyes and looked down, and Derek heard his pulse accelerate again.

“We’ve got all day,” Derek said. Unable to not touch, he slid his hands up and down Stiles’ calves. “Please let me have this. I’ve been thinking about it all week.”

“Thinking about…” Stiles swallowed heavily, his Adams apple bobbing tantalizingly in his throat.

“God, I want you to come in my mouth Stiles,” Derek said. He let his eyes scan back down Stiles’ henley, one of Derek’s, until he was looking at Stiles’ perfect, hard, curving cock. He licked his lips. “We can do more later. So much more. Please Stiles. Can I-”

Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s hair again and pulled him forward. “Please Derek, please!”

Derek didn’t have the fortitude to smile or by coy. He let the hands in his hair pull him forward until he licked a soft unsatisfying line from the middle up around the head. Before he took Stiles back into his mouth, a few words tripped off his tongue: “Be loud. I want everyone to know…” he left _that you’re mine_ off the end. But Stiles knew.

“Derek!” Stiles yelled out, as Derek slid his mouth back down again. He let one of his hands fall from Derek’s hair and hammered on the door with his fist. “Yes! Yesyesyes! Just like that! Right there I-” An obscene moan finished the sentence. “Faster… can you… Perfect! Derek that’s perfect!”

Derek moaned around Stiles, and the vibration teased a sound out of Stiles that was almost pathetic. It was a soft whimper that Derek craved more of. The loud curses and yelling were marvellous, but Derek knew that sound had to be rare.

Derek slid a hand up Stiles’ inner thigh, higher and higher until Stiles had to step a little wider to make space for his fingers. And then Derek slid a single finger, soft and teasing, in behind Stiles’ balls and further back until he was pressing lightly at that place he’d open up later. And just that little press of a finger was enough.

“Derek!” Stiles screamed, and the name was cut in two as Stiles’ voice split into that whimper again. “I’m gonna come… in your mouth. Derek, I’m gonna come in your mouth.”

Derek looked up and tried to put into his eyes what he couldn’t put into words with his mouth full: _then do it already!_

Stiles bucked into his mouth, nearly choking him. Stiles growled and roared through his orgasm, filling the house with a noise Derek wouldn’t soon forget. Every room rang with the sound, it echoed down the hallway.

The taste exploded on Derek’s tongue, and it was so different from the day in the living room. So different from scooping up cooling come and licking it off of his fingers. This was hot and wet and the strangest and most wonderful texture on his tongue. Derek groaned as his mouth flooded with it. It was everything he’d wanted.

Derek took a firm grip on Stiles’ hips to keep him still as he writhed against the attention of Derek’s mouth and tongue. But Stiles was still hard, and Derek wanted to get everything he could, so he continued to tongue and suck and slide up and down.

“Seriously Derek!” Stiles whined, a little huff of laughter coming out with the pained-sounding words. “I can’t. I can’t! Please stop!”

Derek pulled back immediately, dropping his hands from where they held Stiles tight against the door. His finger marks were white on the skin, not hard enough to bruise, he hoped.

Derek was stronger, so much stronger, than Stiles and he needed to remember to be careful and not get too carried away. Stiles would enjoy everything, Derek was determined. There would never be a time when Stiles wanted to stop and Derek was too far gone. He refused to let that even be an option.

“Hey,” Stiles’ voice was soft, and suddenly he was sitting right in front of Derek, who’d let his attention wander to his thoughts. “Hey, Derek? You ok?” He put a hand to Derek’s cheek. 

Stiles was smiling. No lines had been crossed.

Derek let out the breath he’d been holding, worried that he’d gone too far.

“What’s going on up in that thick skull of yours big guy?” Stiles joked.

“Just… I didn’t… go too far did I?” Derek asked. There was no point in doing this whole thing if they weren’t honest with each other.

“Nope,” Stiles said. “I felt way too good. Too sensitive.”

“Good,” Derek said, relaxing back onto his heels a little more before he changed his mind and leaned forward, kissing Stiles, and pressing him awkwardly back against the door, their knees knocking between them.

Stiles moaned at the taste of himself, and pushed back against Derek. He crawled into Derek’s lap straddling him and reminding Derek that he was urgently aroused. Stiles ground down against him and Derek broke the kiss to call Stiles’ name out into the entryway.

Which was when he realized that they were still in the entryway.

Stiles kissed at Derek’s throat, knowing it was a tender spot especially for a wolf. “I believe you had said something about more sexy stuff?” Stiles asked, licking a torturously slow line up across Derek’s Adams apple. “Can we go upstairs and do that now? Cause, like, give me another few minutes and I’ll be ready to go again.”

Derek cradled Stiles’ head and kissed him hard, opening their mouths to each other and making indecent noises into each other’s huffed breaths.

“God Stiles…” Derek kissed again. “I want…” Another kiss. It was addictive. He couldn’t stop. “I need you.” Kiss. “All I could think about…”

“I know,” Stiles said. “Me too. Let’s go upstairs.” He slipped out of Derek’s arms and stood up, doing up his pants so he could walk without them falling down and tripping him. He held out a hand to help Derek up. 

Such a perfect gesture; Derek didn’t need the help, but he took the hand anyway and let himself get pulled to his feet.

“I’ll be so loud for you Derek,” Stiles promised in this wonderful, sexy, husky voice as he kept Derek’s hand and dragged him to the stairs.

Derek followed, and only made it halfway up, watching Stiles in front of him before he pushed him face first against the wall of the stairwell and ground up against him. He kissed at the back of Stiles’ neck and bit a little. He nuzzled into the shorter hair at the base of his neck, smelling the sex and sweat on the skin. He pushed his hips forward, grinding against soft flesh. All the clothes in the way frustrated him and he growled.

Stiles turned in his arms, slippery little bugger, and took Derek’s face in his hands. “I’m not going anywhere Derek,” he said matter-of-factly. “We have-”

“Yes you are,” Derek blurted out suddenly. It wasn’t the time. He was finally going to get to have sex with Stiles and he was bringing up emotion? Not the right time.

“I’m right here,” Stiles said. He took Derek’s hand and put it on his throat just over his pulse point. “You can feel me. I’m right here.”

“But you have to leave,” Derek said. “After Christmas you’re going to leave. You have to.”

Stiles nodded a little. “It’s my last semester Derek,” he said. And his voice was all reassurance. Isaac called it his “pack mother” voice. “One more semester. And it’s only a few hours away. It’s not a long drive. I’ll come see you all the time.” Stiles quirked an eyebrow. “As long as you promise to let me get a little studying done when I’m here.”

“There’s nothing here for you, Stiles,” Derek said firmly. “You can’t come back here. You’re better than that. So when you’re done, you’ll go somewhere else and-”

“Hey!” The bite in Stiles’ voice rang through the stairwell and stopped Derek’s words in his throat. There was so much command in that voice, so much authority. It awed Derek, and turned him on even more if that was possible. “I’m a grown ass man,” Stiles continued, a little angry, “I’ll make my own decisions, ok?”

“You’re right, it’s none of my business what you do,” Derek said morosely.

Stiles’ eyes softened, the anger fading. “It’s absolutely one hundred and fifty percent your business,” he said, still holding Derek’s face tight. “I want to come back. And I don’t feel like it’s me… failing as a person or not living up to my potential. And it’s not just about you. It’s about the pack too.” His eyes went distant, like he was looking through Derek, through the wall, toward something else; the future, maybe. “It’s like… when I go away, it’s like an elastic band pulling tight. Stretching to the limit. I feel pulled back here by them, Derek. I want to be with them.” His eyes came back again and he met Derek’s. “And with you too, you big ole sourwolf.” He smiled. “I mean… it really is a lot about you. But it’s everything else too.”

“But there’s nothing-”

Stiles smiled. “Deaton wants to retire, did you know that?” He asked.

Stiles often talked about classes, but it was vague. He never talked about what he was majoring in, or what he wanted to be. Instead it was like: “this biology thing is killing me!” Or: “do you know how fucking stupid chemistry is?” Never the important stuff, like what he would do with it afterwards.

“I didn’t,” Derek replied.

“Well he’d like to someday, and I’m going to take over for him,” Stiles said. “I mean, it’s not going to happen overnight. Once I’m done school I still have a few years of practical training to do. But I can do that here with him at the clinic.”

Derek felt the smile growing on his face. It might work. He might actually get to be happy. In an “ever after” kind of way.

“So I’ll have a good career, and I’ll be able to keep helping the pack and…”

Derek kissed him soundly, grabbed Stiles’ thighs and picked him up, carrying him up the last of the stairs. He kept kissing, not watching where he was going while Stiles clung to him tightly and wrapped his legs around Derek’s middle.

Derek dropped him on the bed, and Stiles let out a surprised squeak before adding: “So I guess that means you’re ok with it?”

Derek grabbed a few things from the nightstand and lay down next to Stiles on the bed. The urgent aching want was gone. In its place Derek was full of emotion. Love and arousal was there too, but it was a low deep throbbing instead of a sharp painful need.

“It… sounds perfect,” Derek said, running his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “I mean… other than the being apart for five months part.”

Stiles sat up and pulled his shirt off. “I guess we should definitely fit in as much as we can right now then,” he said with a raised eyebrow, “while we’re here together. In person. In the flesh.”

“Oh come on,” Derek teased, starting to feel the serious emotions fade into the background for the moment; feeling playful and happy. “You’re really good at talking. You do it all the time. The phone sex should be pretty good.” He pulled his own shirt off and popped the button his jeans, beginning to tug them down.

“Oh god,” Stiles’ eyes rolled back in his head and he fell into the pillows dramatically.

“What?” Derek asked with a grin as he tossed his pants and underwear to the floor.

“Phone sex!” Stiles said.

“Ok…”

“The idea of just… like…” Stiles groaned again. “You telling me what you’re doing… and…”

Derek reached over and undid Stiles’ pants, tugging them off while he kept talking.

“Getting off on me just talking. Oh god Derek, it’s like… the hottest thing I could think of,” Stiles finished.

Derek crawled up over him and looked down into his eyes. “It’s pretty hot. Definitely not the hottest thing I can think of.”

“No? Then what’s your idea of-” The sentence ended with a groan when Derek slipped a finger between Stiles’ legs and started to tease and press.

He nosed his way along Stiles’ neck until he found his ear. “If you’re still game I was thinking that fucking you senseless would be pretty hot,” he whispered.

Stiles’ body responded, bucking up toward Derek.

Derek faltered, pulling his hand away. He hadn’t been lying that first day when he’d told Stiles he didn’t know what to do. He really didn’t. And looking at porn and reading articles over the past week when he had a minute alone with his cellphone helped, but didn’t give him the necessary hands-on experience to make him totally comfortable with what was about to happen between them.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles asked, reading Derek so well, the way he always did. “And hey, no more whispering. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hot as hell. But we don’t need to whisper anymore, let’s take full advantage, ok big guy?”

Derek nodded. “Yeah, ok,” he replied at a regular volume.

“Ok, now what’s wrong?” Stiles ran his hands through Derek’s hair and it was so comforting that he closed his eyes and leaned into the nimble fingers he loved so much.

“Remember, that first day…”

“Oh, I remember,” Stiles replied.

Derek swallowed heavily. “You remember when I said I didn’t have any experience with…”

“I do,” Stiles said, not making him finish. “Derek, look at me.”

Derek opened his eyes and felt deju vu from that first time together on the couch. When Stiles had asked him to open his eyes, and it had seemed so difficult until he did it and saw Stiles’ warm and comforting eyes looking back with absolute… well, it looked like love.

“Don’t worry about it Derek,” Stiles said as he reached over for the bottle of lube Derek had grabbed from the nightstand. “This I can definitely help with. Watch and learn big guy.”

Derek slid down the bed a little, between Stiles’ legs, which he spread obscenely wide. Sitting like that, looking at Stiles spread open for him, Derek shuddered at the show of power and trust. It warmed him at the core. He wanted to dive in and know exactly what to do to make Stiles feel good, but he had no idea where to start. Totally out of his element. It wasn’t even something he’d done by himself, with his own body.

Stiles poured lube onto his fingers and just dove right in, he slipped a hand between his legs and watched Derek while he slipped the finger easily inside. His body grasped at the knuckle, like it wanted more. Derek just watched, fascinated as Stiles pushed his finger in and out, not making a noise. Occasionally he’d push it far and then stay for a moment to let himself adjust and then he’d move again.

It wasn’t long before he added a little more lube and a second finger. This was a slower process. The tips of the fingers slid in, but Stiles didn’t push them far right away as he had with the first. Instead it was a long, slow push with many pauses to adjust. If two fingers were such an ordeal, Derek had no idea how they were going to make room for what they had planned.

Stiles’ head fell back into the pillows as he pushed his fingers further still. He hissed a little.

Derek ran his hands up and down Stiles’ thighs while he continued to watch. “It’s ok Stiles,” he said, “we don’t have to-”

“It’s ok Derek,” he said, “I told you. I haven’t done this a lot. It’ll just take a little more time. If you’re ok with watching me do this for a while.”

Derek’s body shuddered, and he realized just how hard and turned on he was by the whole thing.

“Keep…” Stiles panted. “Keep doing that. It helps me relax.” He grabbed one of Derek’s hands where it was rubbing his thigh and squeezed it for a second before he returned to gripping the sheets by his hip.

Derek obeyed, rubbing patterns into Stiles’ skin and willing him to relax. It became almost like meditation: watching Stiles’ fingers move, feeling his skin and the hair on his legs under his palms. It was mesmerizing, and Derek’s arousal became part of that. This trance he was in.

“Little help here?” Stiles asked as he finally bottomed out his fingers and then slowly slid them free.

“Anything,” Derek said. He felt like he hadn’t used his voice in a million years. “What do you need, Stiles?”

Stiles grabbed one of Derek's hands and slicked up his index finger. “Your turn.” He drew the prepped hand forward.

Derek wanted so badly, but he didn’t want to hurt Stiles; was so afraid of doing something wrong.

“It’s fine Derek,” Stiles said. “I’m right here. I’ll tell you what to do.”

Derek crawled forward a little on the bed, and pressed the tip of his finger right where Stiles wanted it. The muscle there was loose and relaxed, but still fought Derek a little as he pushed gently against it.

Stiles moaned loud, throwing his head back into the pillows. He hadn’t moaned at all when he’d been touching himself. But Derek understood that. Keeping his mouth shut when his own hand was on his dick was fine, he knew exactly what to expect, but when Stiles touched him he wanted to scream with how good it felt.

Derek’s finger suddenly slipped inside and he turned his head and bit gently at Stiles’ thigh, trying to keep his moan inside. And then he realized he didn’t need to be quiet anymore, released the skin between his teeth and let out a desperate noise.

His finger slid deeper, so easy now that it was past that initial resistance. And it was hot and wet inside of Stiles. His body squeezing against the intrusion.

“Oh my god Stiles,” he said, unable to think of anything else to say.

“You like it?” Stiles asked with a saucy grin and a quirked eyebrow as he looked down his own body at Derek.

Derek grinned back and slid his finger a little deeper starting to feel tentatively around the edges of what Stiles liked. “You feel so good.” His finger easily slipped all the way in. And it felt like Stiles’ body was trying to pull him further still.

“Two,” Stiles panted. “Another one. Come on.”

Derek slowly pulled his finger back, the way he’d watched Stiles do. No sudden movements, no sharp thrusts, just soft and slow and gentle. His finger slipped out and he mourned the loss of that heat and tightness.

Stiles poured a little more lube onto Derek’s fingers. He didn’t think they really needed it, Stiles was already dripping with it, but best to be safe. It was Stiles’ body, he’d defer to Stiles. Plus the wetness couldn’t do anything but help the whole process. Derek’s brain short circuited for a second when he thought about sinking into that wetness, pushing inside with his cock.

He teased around the edge with the two fingers before pushing through the ring of muscle again. Slowly, ever so slowly, inch by inch, just as he’d watched Stiles do it, he pushed in. And then he met resistance he hadn’t with one finger. More than just the regular squeeze of muscle. Everything got just a little too tight where his fingers pushed in, where they got wider. And Derek stopped.

“Good, good,” Stiles panted. “Yeah. Just wait for a minute there. Let me adjust. I just need to… relax.” The last came out through gritted teeth, and Stiles sounded frustrated.

Derek brought his other hand up and started to rub relaxing patterns into his thigh again.

He felt the difference almost immediately. Stiles’ muscles relaxed and he melted down into the bed a little. He was still tight, but there was a looseness to his limbs.

Derek pulled his fingers back.

“No, no, no!” Stiles looked at him desperately. “I want more Derek.”

“Slow Stiles,” Derek said. “We have all the time in the world.”

Derek didn’t let his fingers come all the way out, instead he slowly pushed back in, and this time there was more give and he got a little further. As he pushed in he started to explore gently with his fingers, teasing around this way and that.

“Derek,” Stiles whined with every retreat. “How are you so good at this when you’ve never done it before? It feels… Derek!”

Derek reached deep inside and crooked his fingers again like he had that first time. He nudged against something inside that made Stiles buck and move in the best possible way.

“More, more, Derek!” Stiles demanded. “Do it again! Please! Please!”

Derek obeyed, unable to resist the request. Fingers in deep, he curled his fingers up and back, over and over until Stiles was writhing around him.

“Derek!” Stiles barked out words through sharp intakes of breath. “I’ve never… been able… to… find it… myself! Derek! Derek! You’re gonna make me… I’m gonna…”

Derek slipped his fingers out. He wasn’t sure if they could make it happen, but he really wanted Stiles to come while Derek was inside him; inside him with something more than just his fingers.

Stiles whined, and it tugged and tore at something inside Derek that said: just give him what he wants, he’s hurting and you can make it better. Derek fought that instinct, and instead rubbed more comforting patterns into Stiles’ skin.

Once Stiles had calmed down again, Derek slipped his two fingers back inside. Stiles’ body gave easily, fully relaxed now, so Derek started to widen his fingers a little, searching for the limit.

“Derek?” Stiles looked down at him, face flushed bright red, hair a mess, eyes all pupil.

“Yeah?” Derek asked, trying not to grin and failing miserable.

“Come here.”

Derek slipped his fingers free and crawled back up Stiles’ body.

“Seriously dude,” Stiles said, a look of awe on his features. “How in the hell are you so good at that?”

Derek opted for the truth. “I just want you to feel good,” he admitted, “I guess that’s… a good place to start from?”

Stiles laughed and wrapped his arms tight around Derek’s neck, pulling him in and kissing him messy. Saliva was everywhere, tongues slipping between each other. Their bodies rubbed together, and Derek suddenly pushed up.

“No!” He said too sharply.

“What?” Stiles immediately took his hands away. “What? Are you ok?”

“You can’t…” Derek took a deep breath. “I don’t want to come like this. I want to come when…”

Stiles grinned. “When you’re inside me?” He laughed. “Yeah, me too.” He pushed at Derek’s chest and maneuvered him until he was laying down.

Stiles grabbed the lube, spilled a bunch onto his hand and looked down at Derek. “Ok, I’ll be quick, but think unsexy thoughts for me, ok?”

“Like wha-” Derek couldn’t finish the sentence before Stiles had a wet hand on his cock. Derek closed his eyes and couldn’t summon one unsexy thought at all. His entire being was focused on Stiles’ hands, his body, his scent. He was wonderfully surrounded with Stiles.

“Ok, ready?”

Derek opened his eyes and watched Stiles throw a leg over to straddle him and sit down on his stomach.

“I said: you ready?” Stiles pinched at one of Derek’s nipples teasingly.

“I think so,” Derek replied, sliding his hands up Stiles’ thighs.

“Stiles’ sex rule number one: I need a very positive affirmative before I shall proceed,” Stiles said, pinching Derek’s other nipple.

“It’s a good rule,” Derek smiled, almost forgetting what was about to happen as they fell into their familiar rhythm with each other. Derek wanted to add sex to their rhythm too, so they could be totally in sync, each a half of the same whole. “Yes, Stiles. Affirmative. 10-4.”

“Excellent,” Stiles said, and then his face sobered. He knelt tall, took Derek in hand and sat back just a little at first.

It was the strangest sensation. Derek had only had sex with women before, and though it was pressure and tightness, it was so very different. 

As Stiles sat back, Derek felt himself pushing against muscle, firm pressure finally letting him slip slowly inside.

“Holy, merciful, sweet mother of all things holy…” Stiles trailed off, and Derek resisted the urge to tell him he’d said “holy” twice.

Derek’s body wanted. He was inside, and he still wanted. He wanted to grab Stiles’ hips, plant his feet and thrust home. The slow drag of skin on skin was some kind of insane torture that Derek didn’t know if he could withstand.

“Stiles,” he moaned out.

“Yeah?” Stiles replied, looking down. The warmth in his eyes made Derek feel like his heart might stop, and he couldn’t answer for the emotion stuck in his throat. Stiles smiled. “Yeah. I know, right?” And then he slid a little further down.

And it kept on like that, and Derek wasn’t sure how he didn’t come. He wanted to, his body wanted to. He felt like he was hanging right on the edge and each time he thought he might go over, Stiles pulled him back with a grin or the firm pressure of a hand on his chest.

Finally Stiles was sitting in his lap, and Derek was completely inside Stiles. It was different than he’d thought. He’d imagined it all week as some earth shattering thing that would completely change everything. Instead it felt familiar and right in a way that made him feel complete. But it was like finding a piece of himself that was always there, he’d just never paid attention to it.

“How do you feel?” Stiles asked, seemingly reading his mind.

“I should be asking you,” Derek said.

“I’m good,” Stiles grinned, “really, really good. Doesn’t it just feel…”

“Good?” Derek returned his smile.

Stiles got serious for a second. “No, right. It just feels right.”

That hit Derek so close to home and his own thoughts that he froze, unsure what to say. And then Stiles clenched his body suddenly, and Derek huffed a bit of laughter as the air was forced from his body. “Woah, woah,” he warned. “You’re gonna make me come doing that for sure.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow. “That’s kinda the point.”

Derek was about to respond when Stiles tensed his muscles and began to pull up. He started a very slow up and down motion. At one point he pulled off altogether to add more lube before he sat down again and the slide was perfect and wet and the friction was there but it wasn’t so intense.

It wouldn’t be long, and Derek reached out and wrapped his fingers around Stiles, stroking him tight and in rhythm with the movements up and down.

“God Derek, if you do that…”

“That’s kinda the point,” Derek said before Stiles could finish. “I’m really close Stiles. I’ve been really close since downstairs. I need you to come.”

Stiles just… listened, and his body tensed all over as he roared through another orgasm, the come warming Derek’s fingers and stomach. Stiles leaned forward, gripped Derek’s shoulders hard, met his eye and started to slide up and down more quickly.

Derek came in an instant. He planted his feet, took Stiles’ hips and pulled them together hard, thrusting again and again as his body emptied and became more and more sensitive.

“Yes, Derek!” Stiles called out as he held on tightly and let Derek take what he needed.

When they were done, Derek flipped them easily, still inside Stiles, and ran his hands into Stiles’ hair, touching his cheeks and mouth softly. “Are you alright?” Derek asked, unsure if the last few moments had been too much. He shouldn’t have let himself go.

“Alright?” Stiles laughed, and Derek slid out of his body at the tensing of the muscles. “Am I alright? That was fucking amazing Derek. That was the most amazing… I can’t talk… no words. Me, Stiles Stilinski, is speechless… and speaking in bad grammar ways. Speechless.”

Derek smiled, relieved. “You know, if you were really speechless, you wouldn’t be talking at all,” he pointed out. The tension left him and he settled his body on top of Stiles.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to work on that,” Stiles said. “You know: next time. You’ll have to try for a less verbal Stiles.”

Derek nuzzled at his cheek, his throat, at the base of his neck where his hairline started and his scent pooled with the beaded sweat.

Stiles giggled. “Hey! That tickles asshole!”

“Good,” Derek breathed softly against his neck, which only caused more giggling.

Once he’d tickled his share, and Stiles begged him to stop, he rolled to the side. He curled into Stiles, one hand around his middle, pulling him close.

“Are you really coming back?” Derek asked, and he hated how insecure and small he sounded.

“You bet,” Stiles said, turning toward him and kissing his forehead.“It’s a guarantee. A genuine Stiles Stilinski guarantee.”

“I’m afraid,” Derek suddenly admitted.

“Of what?” Stiles asked. Derek felt him shift on the bed, but he didn’t look up, just kept focused on that freckle on Stiles’ shoulder that he recently learned he loved the taste of.

“I’m afraid of being happy, Stiles,” Derek said, his voice as cold as he could manage, trying not to feel while feeling too much. “Whenever I’m happy something bad happens.”

“Nothing bad’s gonna happen, Derek,” Stiles said. “I won’t let it.”

Stiles arms closed around him, and somehow Derek just knew it was true. For once in a very long time, someone had come to take care of him. And he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Stiles would never let anything ruin them.

**Author's Note:**

> Please be kind... since... as previously mentioned I haven't watched a TON of the show... but I just... love them.


End file.
